


Hulkynd

by chapitre



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adoption, Altmer - Freeform, Altmer Dragonborn - Freeform, Break the Haughty, Dragonborn is an asshole, Gen, Homelessness, More tags to be added, Pre-Game Events, Prostitution, Racism, Thalmor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapitre/pseuds/chapitre
Summary: Sofie, a girl newly orphaned, wanders the streets of Windhelm, starving and alone. Yet, just as all seems lost, she runs into another outcast from another world.





	Hulkynd

_ 4E, 200 _

A hanged man turned in the wind. The frost was beginning to bite at his clothes, warding away the flies hoping to find host in his corpse. In the last throes of torchlight, Sofie could still make out the outline of his amulet, hung around his neck and tossed by the cold - an amulet of Talos.

His name had been Harald, and just the dawn before he had been conducting his daily seminar in the name of mighty Talos. The whole of Rorikstead had gathered to worship and hearken to his righteous words in the town square. Sofie had clutched Papa's hand even tighter when the Thalmor had arrived and arrested Harald as words still flowed from his lips. They had swept him away as quick as they'd arrived, almost like phantoms, and they'd returned when the sky was still black as ink to send their message.

Here hung Harald, a man of Talos, skin beginning to balloon and bulge, eyes forever opened wide and glassy with death as he hung from the town gates. The wind was howling more now, sharper than before, almost like a wounded animal. Sofie shivered and pulled her clothes tighter around her small body. She could not bear to look at Harald any longer and shied away, turning back toward her home of straw and stone as the cold stung her reddened cheeks. She could still hear the low rumble of Harald's voice in her ears, the way he sounded as fatherly as Papa did, and she could still smell him, the scent of sweat and books. Soon the rest of the town would awake, and they would see the Thalmor's work; Sofie did not know what would happen then.

As Sofie hastened to her home, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head in time to spot the door of Harald's home open, and three Thalmor emerged. They ducked beneath the stone doorway, as tall as trees, and in the dim dawn light Sofie could vaguely distinguish their features. Two wore glimmering armor of glass, priceless swords strapped to their sides, possibly worth more than all Sofie and Papa owned. The third Thalmor, the one who exited last, wore not armor but a hooded robe to cover his lank body, the darkest black fabric Sofie had ever laid her young eyes upon. The Thalmor insigna, jagged and bold, sat emblazoned upon his belt, the edges of his long clothes etched with gold. He must have been a wizard, so finely but delicately dressed, Sofie thought. Her skin crawled.

The wizard cocked his head, the wind pulling at the hood framing his slender face; Sofie could see his skin, as golden as Septims, and traces of fine, fair hair escaping the confines of his shroud. His eyes, the color of angry embers, landed on Sofie, and she froze. He was only across the street, not far from Sofie, and if he'd wanted he could have sent a bolt of lightning her way in just a moment. Sofie could not move, fear anchoring her feet to the dry grass beneath her shoes, and remained dumbly standing there, her eyes wide and locked on the wizard's.

The wizard's eyes darted to Harald's corpse, the figure that swayed in the strong wind, then they returned to Sofie. His stare was luminous, almost penetrating, and Sofie feared he may kill her with his gaze alone. He seemed young, skin soft and unmarred by the gravity of age, but Papa had told her with was impossible to tell with _Elves_ \- some could number hundreds of years, yet still look as spritely as a boy who had not yet seen his thirteenth birthday. For a while the wizard simply stared at Sofie, at her minuscule figure, then his face twisted suddenly - he gave something between a snarl and a sneer, thin lips pulling back to reveal teeth as white as pearls, prominent nose wrinkling, fine brow clouding with what seemed like disgust.

"Behold the future, human," he thundered, voice almost alike the roar of fabled dragons, "Behold the Thalmor."

A mortal terror overtook Sofie, and she felt her knees wobble and nearly fail.

The two soldiers, having been looking elsewhere, turned their heads to peer at Sofie. One cackled, the sound ugly and grating. The other stuck her thumbs to the side of her armored neck and made a grisly face - a mockery of the hanged Harald.

" _Sofie!_ "

Papa's voice was alike a shock - Sofie gasped out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Papa was standing over their hearth, still in his nightclothes, his braided hair and long beard still messy from sleep. He must have noticed her missing - thankfully. Revitalized by the call of her father, Sofie forced herself to move at last; she ran to the shelter of her father's arms, hiding her face in his broad chest. His hair, dark like her own, fell upon her shoulders as he lifted her into his arms, his limbs thick as logs.

Behind her, she heard the wizard spit, " _Graxifalas._ Cherish your time while you can. We will wipe you all from the face on Tamriel."

Wordless, Papa turned. He stepped into the warmth of their house, closing the door behind himself - but over his shoulder, Sofie caught one more look of the wizard, his robes fluttering in the wind, his eyes boring into her own with the intensity of a wildfire.

The door shut.


End file.
